


i speak but lack no love

by Ethereally



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Developing Relationship, I can't believe there are only 3 fics for this ship, Multi, Threesomes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-10-26 02:29:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10777578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ethereally/pseuds/Ethereally
Summary: Neither of them are any good with words, but they talk about Odin when they know he can't listen.(Or: Laslow and Selena scream about how cute their boyfriend is.)





	i speak but lack no love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Icie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Icie/gifts).



Neither Laslow nor Selena are good with words. His litany of failed dalliances with women should be enough to testify to that, and despite what she might prefer to think, Selena would have better luck bruising her way through a fight rather than charming her way out of it. Rather, he spins stories through dance and Selena through conjectures; Odin, their wordsmith, paints over their ramblings with a dramatic flourish of his own. Which is fine by them. He and Selena prefer to express true feelings through actions rather than words: that’s the way it’s always been.

Though sometimes they talk about Odin, mostly when he isn’t there. 

 

Owain’s parents had taken Inigo in after his own mum and dad died. He remembers resting his head on Owain’s shoulder, Auntie Lissa weaving tales by the fireplace, embers crackling in the background and soothing them to sleep. She told them about Naga and how the great dragon created the land and the sea, and then the sun to give them life. But then the sun got lonely being alone in the sky, watching over everyone from a distance but too far to join in, so he begged Naga for friends. Naga was busy weaving flower petals from her scales but the sun persisted, pleading for seven days and nights until she plucked out a whisker, and the moon and stars appeared in the horizon to keep him company. They quickly wrapped the sun into their fray, and for a while, all was well. The sun shone brightly for weeks with joy. 

This peace was soon shaken by anger and strife. The moon and stars grew disillusioned by the sins committed by man, and had a spat with the sun one day, shrieking that humankind was not deserving of its light. The sun refused to listen, stubbornly committing to his faith; his initial joy faded into horror when the moon and stars soon preferred to spend time together, only coming out to stroll when the sun was sleeping late at night. Yet they bicker, the stars flicker, and the moon can never show its full face without the sun’s rays to guide it; each celestial being is only one third of a whole, bound to each other by Naga’s grace. “One day, the moon and stars will realize their mistake and return,” Auntie Lissa would whisper as they were dozing off, “Day and night will become one again, and mankind will know darkness no more.” 

Laslow isn’t sure if Odin had been quite as lonely as a child; he’d had himself and Cynthia growing up, and then Morgan, later, when he’d decided to turn his nose up at Odin’s childish games. But he and Selena had spent a good part of their early teens teasing Odin; they’d pulled his stories to pieces, shattering his make-believe dreams with what they considered to be truth. “Taste a tale from the real world,” Selena had spat, back when they were fighting Risen in the forest and Lucina was hurt, and Odin— no, Owain had tried to tell them that it would be okay, that heroes always triumphed. Selena scoffed. 

“The good guys don’t always win.”

Her words had almost been prophetic later that evening, when they’d been attacked by another horde. Laslow remembers being pinned to the ground by two stray Risen, eyes glowing red, ready to sink their bared teeth into his skin. He could barely struggle against them as one clamped his arms onto the ground, breath putrid and pungent in his face as it prepared to devour him whole. His lips parted to scream, but they made no sound. Perhaps this would be it. Perhaps this would be how he died, with a whimper, a befitting fate for a boy who’d spent much of his childhood hiding behind his mother’s skirts. He closed his eyes, ready to face the embrace of Naga.

There was a swift swishing of a blade and a cursed, hollow cry into the air. Inigo blinked, only to see a flash of yellow and gold dash past him and a Risen head roll onto the ground by his side. 

“I smite thee!” 

There was only one person who could have been his savior. Inigo jumped to his feet, lips parted in shock, unable to find the right words to say as Owain ran off into the distance, ready to face his next nemesis.

Later that night, Inigo and Severa were tasked to keep watch together. “Ugh, why you?” she’d grumbled, though Inigo knew she’d say that about anybody, and merely responded with a grin and a wink. 

Slumber found the rest of their friends one by one. Cynthia, curled up at Severa’s feet, Brady clenching his staff to his chest. Owain next to his sick cousin, faithful even in sleep, chest rising and falling as he snored. There was an empty spot in Noire’s arms where Morgan should have been, and Inigo turned away from her, unable to watch. Their betrayal hurt him more than he’d care to admit. He’d turned back to Severa, smile plastered on his face, trying to grin so widely it would crinkle the corners of his eyes. Perhaps, that way, he could trick himself into believing it was genuine. “Think we did okay?” 

“Well, we all lived,” she said, flicking a pigtail across her shoulder. “No thanks to you.”

Inigo wrapped a bandage around the wound on his arm, stared into the flickering flames, and thought of the stories Auntie Lissa told them before she’d died. “Owain,” he muttered. “Owain protected me just now.”

Severa raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“H- he brushed a Risen off me when it was going to attack,” Inigo said, shifting uncomfortably on the log he was sitting on. “I didn’t even realize it was coming! One step wrong and I could be—” 

“Well, you didn’t die, did you?” Severa snapped in a way that Selena would probably cringe at, even if she still won’t admit it now. “So quit whining about it.” 

“I guess,” Inigo said. He shifted his gaze and stared into the firelight. “Ever think that we might be a little bit too mean?”

“Ugh, what are you talking about?” 

“About Owain.” 

A silence fell between them for a few seconds, a blanket of cold comfort that did little to shield them from the tense atmosphere. Inigo turned up to stare at Severa again, her brow furrowed and lips pursed, and even then he couldn’t help but think that she was beautiful. Not just the way he called every girl beautiful, too; there was something about how fire danced in her eyes, a spirit that burned even if she tried to bury it within her. Finally, Severa broke the peace, her voice ringing through the darkness of the night.

“What, he saved your life once and now you’ve gone all soft?” 

Inigo bit his lip. There was a strange, unfamiliar feeling churning inside of him, and a part of him felt like he was going to vomit while the other part felt like it could make flowers bloom. “You know he’d give his life for any of us.”

“Don’t remind me.” Severa clicked her tongue, and he knew in a split second that the conversation was over. She leaned back against the trunk of the tree behind them, staring into the distance of the cold dark night. Inigo allowed a small smile to caress his features, knowing that he was right. Perhaps hope wasn’t something tangible you could hold onto, but when he would later lose sight of everything, he would close his eyes and picture it as light. A small, flickering flame that he could grasp in the palm of his hand, dancing as it drew its sword with a battle cry. 

Neither Inigo nor Severa stopped chiding Owain for his childlike fantasies, even after that conversation. Learning from their mistakes had never been their forte. 

 

The leap from Ylisse to Nohr was not a matter of what they wished to do, but to do what was right. Laslow spent the first few nights in his bedchambers fidgeting on the lush pillow and silken sheets, wishing he was back in the single bed Olivia had prepared for him after the war. A casual mention of his sleeplessness over dinner had resulted in Odin crawling into his bed that night, and then the night after that. Soon, Selena began to join in, her body sandwiched between both of theirs for warmth, lies like “I’m only doing this because it’s cold” falling from her lips. 

Laslow didn’t mind, not when the skin of her cheek felt so soft against his collarbones, not when Odin’s arms were strong and lithe wrapped around the two of them in a tight embrace. It was between the two of them that he truly felt like he was home, despite being so far away— they smelled familiar, felt familiar, and he felt safe when Odin ran his hands through his hair, when Selena pressed herself closer towards him. 

The prophesied war soon broke out when Nohr lost its princess, and guarding their lieges meant that they took to sleeping in separate tents. Sleeplessness soon found its way to Laslow again and he spent the nights roaming the woods, accompanied only by the sound of his feet treading the soil as he danced. When they relocate to Fort Corrin, Odin decides he is going to stage an intervention. By that he means striding up to Corrin and saying:

“It would ache my heart to be distant from my partners, both! I pray that you might allow us to share a bed, for the sake of our shared peace.” 

Laslow’s cheeks flush red, and he immediately bursts into a flurry of protests— they aren’t partners, or well, they are, but not that kind— wait, perhaps they really are— oh no. Selena is too furious to say anything, but Odin waggles his brows at her and she knows that he is right. Corrin just laughs, gesturing towards one of the large huts in the rows of their barracks. “That one’s private, you can all set up!” she says. 

Odin hollers, pumps his fist into the air, and says he’s going to go get their trunks: Laslow and Selena should get rested up first. 

Laslow follows Corrin into the room, taking in the sights. It is large and spacious, especially for army barracks; light pours in through a window, casting itself onto a large bed. There is a large shelf for Odin’s books, and a large closet for Selena to store clothes. If he’d been more naive, he would have believed it was dreamed up for the three of them. 

“So, that just happened,” Selena mutters as she steps into the room behind Laslow. He whirls around, and she sighs. “I can’t believe I’m dating you. And Odin, too. I don’t know who’s worse between the two of you. What am I supposed to tell the others when I get back?” 

Laslow only winks in response. “Tell them that you have not one, but two handsome and incredible boyfriends.” 

Selena groans again, rolling her eyes. “I can’t believe that I didn’t deny that I was dating him! That silly-- ridiculous--” 

“Dashing?” Laslow suggests, falling onto the bed with a loud snicker. Selena so often has the upper hand on him that it’s nice to watch her talk herself in circles, and the blush on her face is definitely endearing. He reaches out and grabs her hand, tugging her closer towards him, and she stumbles forward with a loud “Hey!” Still, she collapses by his side, sprawled out as well, and her hand reaches over and laces into his. Laslow gives it a squeeze. This is nice.

Dating his best friends number one and two at the same time is very nice.

 

There is a gap in their sheets where Odin should be between them. Laslow stares across the chasm, trying his best to smile at Selena in the dim light. 

Their boyfriend has been gone for days now on a diplomacy trip with Leo to Hoshido. While Laslow is quick to remind himself that they have survived two wars in three worlds at this point, he cannot help but worry. The three of them have bet all their chips against fate and won far too many times to think that their luck won’t run out someday, and that their next wave goodbye might be their last.

Odin’s favorite spot is nuzzled in between the two of them, head resting on Laslow’s shoulder and a leg kicked on top of Selena’s thighs. He shifts and mumbles in his sleep, and has usually stolen all the blankets by the time they wake up in the morning. Before he went off on this trip, Selena had flipped her hair and chided that they would finally get a good night’s rest; now beside him she is staring at the ceiling, playing with her fingernails, fidgeting from side to side. Laslow has a feeling that sleep might not find either of them tonight. He moves in towards her, closing the space between them, wrapping his arms around her in a tight hug and burying his face in the crook of her neck. Selena groans, though she lifts a hand to stroke his hair, a silent ugh, stay here, see if I care. “What do you want?” 

“Nothing,” Laslow begins, but the word rings hollow even to himself. A thought that’s been swirling around the back of his mind peeks out to greet him, but Laslow pushes it away. It seems hardly necessary to bring this up right now, when he is so worried— about where they will go from here now the war is over, about this, about them. 

Selena clicks her tongue, “You’re lying,” and Laslow sighs (actually sighs, instead of just saying the word “sigh” like a damned fool”). 

“He’s holding us together, you know,” he says, the words small and terrifying in the dark of the night. 

Selena says nothing in response but pulls Laslow in closer. A song that they used to sing in their childhood falls from her lips, and even though her voice is off-key and she can barely carry the tune, it sounds and feels like home. There they lie for hours, Selena singing, Laslow finally joining in with her when he cannot bear to hear her wreck the music any more, unable to run from the knowledge that Odin is their linchpin, their glue. 

Odin shows up again days later sun-kissed and beaming. Laslow does not bother to hold back, and leaps onto Odin as soon as he arrives in a horse-drawn carriage, showering him with a litany of kisses. Selena yells “gross!” in the background, but she lingers for a few minutes too long when she pulls Odin into a tight embrace. 

 

Neither Laslow nor Selena are good with words, even if they won’t admit it. They’re even worse when it comes to talking about feelings. That’s okay, though— Odin is all the words and feelings they can’t hope to express, their desires, their fantasies wrapped up into a bright, joyous bundle of a human being. He walks and lives the legends whose footsteps they all secretly desire to follow. Perhaps, Laslow muses, through Odin, some day he and Selena will feel greater. 

Inigo, Owain and Severa almost feel like separate people now. Shadows of a distant past, faint embers of who they are now: overbearing, overcompensating, struggling against themselves in a quest to run away from their demons. It’s slightly disconcerting, thinking about who he used to be and how he has changed, even if it is for the better; it’s sometimes difficult to remember that “Inigo” was even real. 

Laslow expresses this one day to Odin in the quiet space of their bedchambers, when Selena is in the bathroom partaking in her nightly beauty ritual. Fear tends to grip him hardest when his surroundings are devoid of chatter, and he knows now that this is why he spent so long searching for love in the wrong places. A foolish sentiment, when love was something that he always had. He just needed to dig deep within himself to find it. Now he rolls over closer to Odin, pressing his face closer to his, noses pushed against each other in an almost-kiss. 

“We talk about you sometimes. Care to know what’s been said while you’re gone?” 

Odin grins back in return. 

“No need for pretences or charades! I believe I already do.” 

He presses his lips against Laslow’s, and they taste like the words unspoken.

**Author's Note:**

> hii icie i'm sorry this took so long, but i hope you like it...!! i've been wanting to write fic of my ot3 for EVER and as soon as i got the risen scene in my head i couldn't think of writing anything else, haha. <3
> 
> the title is taken from the rocket summer's "of men and angels".
> 
> finally, special thanks to stella for proofing this for me!!


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